Author's Note: Comments and feedback are appreciated and encouraged! I would like to thank Mark for helping me by editing these chapters. I would also like to apologize for the intermittent nature of new chapters being posted. But let's face it, the first chapter was posted in 2010, so at this point you should have a reasonable expectation that I publish in bursts. I can no longer make excuses, sure I work full time and go to school as well, but the reality is that my muse often deserts me and I struggle to write, then he returns and there is much mental fornication that results in several chapters being produced before he leaves me again. But I am in good health and will eventually finish this damn story! - Robert robertx5sf@yahoo.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead. (c) 2014 by robertx5sf@yahoo.com, all rights reserved, may not be reproduced in any form without the author's consent, with exception of the license granted to Nifty.org per Nifty's terms of use.
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Squires of Telisan Keep - 24
KARL
Karl hid in the shadows of the alcove. The ten-year-old Page watched as Rynil walked past on his way down to the Great Hall. The boy knew that Rynil would be too busy with the feast and spending time with Mikel to realize he was gone until morning, that would give him at least twelve hours before anyone would realize he was missing. Karl had increasingly felt like he needed to get away from the castle since Alek's death. Everything about the castle and his life reminded him of the young Knight. Karl had already had thoughts about running away when Sir Luken suggested that everyone would be better off he left.
Once Rynil was out of sight, Karl entered Sir Luken's suite and went to their bedroom. He opened his chest and pulled out his backpack. He stuffed it with his trousers and plain tunics, the ones without Lord Velarik's coat of arms embroidered on them. He pulled out his dagger from the bottom of the chest and strapped it onto his belt. He went to the armoire, pulled out an empty waterskin and put it in his pack. He took one last look around the room to see if there was anything else, from here, he needed; there wasn't. He turned, left the room, and headed towards the kitchen.
The kitchen was chaotic as the cooks and servants were busy preparing the feast and rushing plates out to the Great Hall. Karl hid in the confusion by simply staying out of their way and remaining quiet. Finally, he saw his opportunity when a cook set a tray of meat down on a counter and there was no servant there yet to take it to the Hall. Karl swooped in and took the dish as soon as the cook turned his back. He exited the kitchen and found a hiding spot down a hallway on the other side of the kitchen from the Great Hall. He drained as much of the juices off the roast pork then wrapped the meat in one of his spare tunics and put it in the bottom of his backpack.
Getting out of the Keep unseen was easy. There were only a few guards patrolling the castle since most of them were enjoying harvest feasts with their families in town or with their friends at the taverns by the tournament field. Karl filled his waterskin up at the well, and left the castle. He briefly considered going to the stables to get his horse, but decided against it. There was likely to be a groom on duty and he would ask questions. Instead, he headed east, avoiding the tournament field and the town.
Karl made his way to the east road. It was empty as everyone was busy enjoying the High Harvestide celebrations. Karl walked quickly along the road, continuing after sunset and not stopping until the early hours of the morning. He found a spot in a nearby field where he could not been seen from the road. He slept and ate during the day, remaining out of sight, after dark he set out again, heading east.
Karl walked through the night, a waxing crescent moon providing a dim light for his journey. Several times, he thought he heard the sounds of someone or something behind him, but when he stopped and hid, nothing appeared. When dawn started to lighten the sky, he again found a spot, hidden from the road in which to make a cold camp. He ate some of the meat, drank some water, and then went to sleep. In the early afternoon, he woke at the sound of horses passing on the road, but they did not stop. Once the sun went down, he resumed his trek.
The boy was not sure where he was heading, other than away from Telisan. Again, he occasionally thought he heard sounds of something following him, but never saw anything. Near dawn he found another hiding place, this one near a small stream. He refilled his waterskin then pulled out the roast pork. It felt strange in his hands as he unwrapped it. He retched and almost vomited when the foul smell of rotting meat struck him. When he uncovered the meat, he saw maggots wriggling through it. He tossed the tunic and rotten meat away into the bushes. Karl was disappointed the meat had gone bad so quickly, he had hoped it would have been good for another few days. He would now need to find a town or a farm where he could buy or steal some food; hopefully no one in the town would be looking for him.
Karl woke the next day an hour or so after noon, his stomach grumbling. Besides being hungry, he was sore from sleeping on the ground for three days in a row. He started to have second thoughts about his decision to run away. He debated what he wanted to do, head back to Telisan or continue. Either way would require finding food, but if he headed back to Telisan, he could do so in the open, without fear of being discovered. It was late afternoon before his growling stomach convinced him to head back towards Telisan, beg forgiveness and hope that the Lord would have mercy on him and not punish him too severely for running away.
Karl had been walking for a couple hours and it was starting to get dark when he heard an eerie howl in the distance. It sounded similar to the howl of a wolf, but had an unnatural note to it. Another howl echoed around him. He could not determine which direction they were coming from. He drew his dagger and continued walking, glancing nervously around him.
Just as the sun was setting, he saw a wisp of smoke that appeared to be moving towards him along the road. When it was about twenty yards in front of him, the smoke coalesced into a black wolf-like creature. Its eyes glowed red and the creature growled at him. Karl turned and ran from the creature. His heart pounding as he ran as fast as he could. He heard the growling of the wolf right behind him. Karl turned his head and looked behind him; the glowing red eyes were almost upon him, then he tripped on an uneven spot in the dirt road and tumbled to the ground.
Karl was sure he was going to die. A bright light suddenly blinded him. When his vision returned he saw a man wearing black robes standing over him. The man appeared to be in his early twenties; he had short black hair and green eyes. The man's face was extremely pale. "Do not worry child, you are safe now," said the man.
Karl looked behind him; there was no sign of the wolf creature. He turned back and looked up at the man, "Are you are War Wizard?"
The man laughed, "No, I am not one of them. My name is Rillion. I heard that creature's howls and came to investigate. It looks like I arrived just in time." He held his hand out to Karl. The boy took it and the man pulled him to his feet.
"What did you do to it?" asked Karl. He was confused, only War Wizards were allowed to use magic.
"I banished it. I hope you are not going to rush off and report me to a Knight. I am just passing through these lands on my way south. It would be a shame if the laws of this land were to punish me for saving your life," said Rillion.
"Thank you for saving me," said Karl. It occurred to him that the man was right; it was stupid for anyone to want to punish Rillion for using magic to save him. Karl did not know why, but he felt like he could trust this stranger. The man looked familiar. He reminded him a little bit of an older version of Mikel, because of the hair color, but there was something more about his face that looked familiar. He was sure he had seen it before somewhere. "I will not report you. I would probably get in trouble myself if I went to the Lord," said Karl.
"Why would you get in trouble?" asked the man.
Karl blurted out the answer without even thinking, "I ran away."
The man reached down and cupped the boy's chin in his hand. He gently turned the boy's head side to side, taking a long look at him. "You are a noble boy, old enough to be in service to a Knight. If you ran away that means you have done more than just that, you deserted your Knight and broke your vows. I can see why you would not be eager to report me. You would be in very serious trouble if they caught you. You could be stripped of your title as Page, disowned by your family, whipped and possible sent to the castle dungeons before eventually being forced into service to the Kingdom, probably as a laborer. No, I do not think you will be turning me in."
Karl shivered in fear. He had not thought through all the consequences of running away. The man put his arm around the boy's shoulders and started leading him down the road. "Do not be afraid, you can travel with me for a bit if you want. I know some less traveled paths that will keep any of the Knights from finding you. I also have enough food and drink for us both. If you want, you can accompany me to Melrath. I have some business to attend to there and a few friends. I am sure one of them could use an apprentice and you could make a new home for yourself, learn a trade, and leave your old life and its troubles behind," offered Rillion.
Karl felt comforted by the man's words. Melrath was a small Kingdom that was on Selarn's southern border. Long ago the two Kingdoms had been enemies, but they had made peace over a century ago. The thought of starting a new life made Karl feel hopeful, "Okay I guess. I do not really have anywhere else to go anyway."
Rillion led the boy to a hidden campsite in a small grove of trees a few minutes walk from the road. There was a bedroll next to a fire. A pheasant was roasting on a spit over the fire. "I had just set up camp here when I heard that creature stalking you. You are just in time to share my dinner with me. Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Yes, very. Thank you," replied Karl as his mouth started watering from the smell of the roasting bird. When the bird was ready, they sat near the fire, ate, drank wine and talked. The man was able to get Karl to tell him the story behind why he ran away. Karl fell asleep on the man's bedroll soon after dinner.
In his sleep, Karl felt a familiar presence against his back. An arm wrapped tightly around his chest. "Alek?" asked Karl in confusion.
Karl heard Alek's voice whispering in his ear, "I never got a chance to tell you how much I loved you and to say goodbye."
"I miss you Alek. Why did you have to die?" asked the boy, his voice filled with grief.
"The Warrior God and his Priests sent me to die. They knew there was a demon there and they sacrificed me to save Mikel. In death, I have learned how cruel the Gods are. I am glad you met Rillion. The Gods took the love of his life from him too. Perhaps together the two of you can get revenge. Now go back to sleep," whispered the voice in his ear.
"Goodbye Alek, I love you," said Karl.
"Goodbye Karl, I love you too," replied the voice, then the arm and presence that had held him was gone.
AYMIL Marsella sat down next to Aymil. "He is a quick learner," she said, tilting her head towards the other side of the clearing where Elthan was giving Wilrik an archery lesson.
"Yes," agreed Aymil. He was stretched out on the grass, lying in the sun. The days were getting shorter and Aymil was enjoying the warm day. "Wilrik likes spending time with the elf and learning his ways. It keeps him from having to think about what happened to him. They also share a distaste for the Gods and Demons." "Hopefully it is not interfering with your healing of the boy. We need to learn what Nazrepon is planning," said the priestess, "I can sense you have been troubled lately, what is wrong?" He sat up and brushed his shaggy black hair out of his eyes with his hand before turning and looking at the Marsella. "Is what the elf said about the Gods, Demons, and Geodus true?" asked Aymil. "Some of it, I believe, is true. Did they betray their creator? I don't know. It is not my place to question the Gods or sit in judgment of them. They did fight with the Demons, and both the Gods and Demons no longer reside in our world in their physical forms. The true reasons are likely unknown to us mortals, including the elves. Elthan's people pass down a story where they are noble refugees from a lost utopia destroyed by our Gods. I doubt that version of history is entirely true," explained Marsella. "But the Demons are the offspring of the Gods. He is right about that," stated Aymil. "Yes, the first Demons are the spawn of the Gods. Then the first Demons reproduced and gave birth to lesser Demons. Just as my powers are weak compared to yours, so it is with Demons, each generation, further removed from the Gods, gets weaker. But the most powerful of the Demons are the children of the Gods," answered the priestess. "The Demon that was inside Wilrik, it was one of the lesser Demons; it was not very powerful. But the Demon it served, the one that took him and made him put on that hood, he is one of the first Demons, isn't he?" asked Aymil. Marsella nodded, "Yes, he is Nazrepon. In Selarn, where Wilrik is from, he is known as the Demon Prince. To the people in your mother's desert tribe, he is known as the Night Terror, and the barbarians of the frozen north refer to him as The Beast." "In Wilrik's memories I have seen Nazrepon use his powers to manipulate people's thoughts and emotions, enter their dreams, and do all the same things that I can do. Is Nazrepon our brother, a child of the Night Hunter?" asked Aymil. Marsella sighed, "Yes. He is the spawn of a coupling between the Night Hunter and the Warrior. I do not know for sure, but I believe he was the first of the Demons to be born. He is the most powerful of all the Demons." "What does he want?" asked Aymil. "I know it has something to do with the royal house of Selarn, but beyond that, I don't know any more than you do. I suspect Durren knows the why of it, but he has not shared it with me. Neither has the Night Hunter illuminated me. I hope that in Wilrik's memories there is some information that will reveal to us the Demon's goals," said Marsella. Aymil could sense some doubt in Marsella's feelings. "You do not entirely trust Durren, do you?" he asked, as he watched Wilrik fire more arrows at the target. "Your powers continue to grow I see. My defenses can no longer keep you out, even when you are not pushing yourself," said the priestess as she avoided answering the question. "In Wilrik's memories, before Durren brought me north, he overheard the two of you talking. Durren does not want me to save Wilrik just so he can get information, does he? He is testing me to see if I can save someone that has been possessed by a demon. He hopes I can save the person that Nazrepon is possessing," said Aymil, answering his own question. Again, Marsella patted the frightened boy's leg and sent a wave of love out to him. Aymil did his best to focus on the priestess's support as he tried to suppress his own fear at the thought of what Durren expected of him.
MIKEL
Mikel looked up from the book he was reading, a rather boring tome on magical glyphs. The sun in the timepiece on the mantle of the fireplace appeared to be in the same spot as the last time he checked a few pages ago. Rynil said he would be here at noon to escort Mikel to his new work duty. Mikel still did not know what it was yet, all Rynil had told him is that he would take care of it for Mikel. Their work duties were determined by their ranking in the tournament and since Mikel had won his first match against Mekrin, he was now ranked in the middle of the group of first year Squires.
Normally, the Squires all picked their tasks the morning after the Tournament, with the winner getting first choice, then the rest of the boys picking their duties in descending order until the last two boys get stuck cleaning the latrines. After their evening together, Rynil had told Mikel not to worry about his work assignment. He told the apprentice that as First Squire among the first year squires, he would make the arrangements and chose for him. He told Mikel that he would come by at noon today to take him to his work duty. When Mikel had tried to get more information out of him, Rynil had stubbornly refused to tell him anything other than it was a surprise and to trust him.
The young sorcerer returned to his attention to the book and read a couple more pages. Glyphs were hybrid between spells and rituals. They were spells stored in written form that to be activated later. The mage writing the glyph determined the trigger that activated the glyph when he created them and imbued them with their magic. Common triggers things like reading, touching, or passing over the glyph. The sample drawings of the glyphs in the book reminded him of the script the undecipherable language in the book that Durren had given him. Unfortunately, there was no magic imbued in the symbols in that book, Mikel had checked it after first discovering their similarity to glyphs.
Mikel felt something, a presence. He looked up from the book and turned towards the door of the Tower. A second later, there was a knock on the door. Mikel set his book down and rushed to the door. Rynil was waiting outside. The young blonde haired, green-eyed Squire was wearing plain hose and a worn tunic.
Rynil quickly glanced behind him to make sure there was no one else in the hall leading to the Tower, then turned back and gave Mikel a quick kiss. "Greetings Mikel, ready to get to work?" he asked.
"Yes. You going to tell me what I'm doing?" asked Mikel.
"Not yet, but you are overdressed. You must have some old clothes you can wear," said Rynil. Mikel was dressed in his black hose and a black tunic with red trim; the clothes were in immaculate condition.
Mikel grinned, "A mage has no fear of a little dirt. It can't withstand the power of my magic!" boasted Mikel.
Rynil rolled his eyes, "Must be nice not having to ever do laundry."
"When have you ever washed your own clothes noble boy? Is handing it to a servant girl really that hard?" countered Mikel.
Rynil pouted, "Fine, dirty your fancy clothes. We need to be going or we will be late for our work duty." He then turned and started down the hallway.
Mikel closed the door to Sir Valen's Tower and followed him. "Our work duty? How did you manage to arrange that?" he asked.
"I had first choice of work duties, but I chose to pass until it was your turn, then I picked one of the few work duties that requires two people for us. I probably could have gotten you a slightly better assignment, but it would have been by yourself. I figured you would rather do a bit of physical labor that was dirty and smelly, if it was with me, than do something easier by yourself," explained Rynil as he led the way out of the old castle.
Mikel was going to make a sarcastic comment but instead he smiled, reached forward, and squeezed Rynil's shoulders. "Thank you. So what is the duty the winner of the tournament usually gets to take and you passed on to spend time with me?" he asked.
"Working in the kitchen; It is the only other two person task besides cleaning the latrines and the one we have now. You get a lot of extra food to eat when you work in the kitchen, and also, it is warm in winter. So, that usually goes first. Have you ever played Courts and Castles?" asked Rynil.
Mikel sighed, "Of course I've played it. Even us peasants have to do something to pass the time during the winter. Why?"
"Because the Mid-Winter Tournament is a Courts and Castles tournament. It is too cold for fighting and jousting tournaments outside. So, they build a big fire in the Great Hall and we all have Courts and Castles Tournaments. The Knights say the game teaches strategic thinking. It also allows the Squires and Pages that are not as strong as the others to earn a higher rank for a season," explained Rynil.
Mikel was about to make a comment, but Rynil stopped outside the Lord's Stable. "Here we are," said Rynil, "There is a pair of gloves and boots for you over by the door. Welcome to our work duty, mucking out the Lord's Stables."
The two boys exchanged their shoes for hard leather boots, put on the gloves, and then proceeded to start completely cleaning out each stall. Rynil started to try to explain what to do, but Mikel quickly cut him off by reminding the noble boy that he had grown up on a farm and knew how to clean a stable. While the grooms took care of the regular daily cleaning of the stalls, it was the Squires' job to do the more thorough weekly cleaning. Unfortunately the grooms were still present in the stables, moving the horses around and doing various other tasks, so Mikel was not able to use his magic to do all the work. Not that Mikel minded, it almost made him feel normal again, and he got to spend the time with Rynil.
"So, any sign of Karl?" asked Mikel as they finished cleaning the last stall.
"No, the trackers and hounds picked up his scent, but lost it after a couple days. He was heading east and then just seemed to vanish. It was the Demon Prince, I am sure of it," stated Rynil.
"The Demon Prince? He is just an old wives' tale. A story mothers use to frighten children. 'Be good or the Demon Prince will come in the middle of the night and take you away,'" said Mikel.
Rynil stopped working and just stared at Mikel in disbelief. "What?" asked Mikel when he noticed the Rynil's look.
"You of all people should know it is not just some old wives' tale. Whom do you think it was that tried to take you and got Wilrik by mistake? Who do you think turned Wilrik into a Demon?" asked Rynil.
"I figured it was just some Demon. I didn't think the Demon Prince really existed," said Mikel defensively.
"Sometimes you miss obvious things and it is not just because you are an ignorant peasant," teased Rynil.
"At least this ignorant peasant no longer smells of horse dung", smirked Mikel, as he snapped his fingers and was instantly clean.
Rynil pouted, "Not if I can help it," he said right before tackling Mikel into a pile of the fresh hay. The two boys wrestled and groped each other as they rolled around in the fresh straw, only breaking apart when a groom led a horse into the stall. Mikel again cast his cantrip, this time cleaning them both off.
Their work duty done, the boys said their goodbyes. Mikel made his way back towards the Tower. As he returned to thinking about his study of glyphs, Rynil's teasing echoed in his mind, `Sometimes you miss obvious things'.